Sun Flowers In The Wind
by Life Is A Mystery
Summary: This is a sequel to White Oleander By Janet Fetch. Its about how Astrid's relationship with her mother grows and she learns more about her and she learns that her mother wasn't quite guilty when it came to her evil actions.
1. Chapter 1

Sun Flowers In The Wind

Louis Capici

Chapter 1: An isolated life in Berlin

I laid on the small, wobbly bed, it made me sweat, and my body itch, I felt trapped in that small bed and I wished I could have floated away to another world. I was lost in Berlin, my heart was set out to be back home in L.A. where my mother was, finally free. I know that I was in her shadow all my life, and if she hadn't killed Barry I wouldn't have had to go to so many foster homes, she didn't think about what could have happened to me, inside I was full of rage when I thought about going back to see her, she killed poor Clare who I loved more than any one, she did it because she was jealous of how close I was with her. She didn't use poison, she used words, and what she did was killing me slowly as well.

I felt ugly, my long golden blond hair was short and black, I didn't want to look pretty, I didn't feel pretty inside so why should I have cared what I looked like outside? I looked as bad as the ugly hotel room. The walls were blank and white, and the white paint was peeling off. The room was slowly falling apart and empty, just two small un-comfortable beds, a nightstand, and a small bathroom with a shower that only lets out cold water.

When I finally got up from that horrible bed I drank some chai tea with boiled milk. I looked out my window, a cold breeze came out and it made me shiver when it hit my pale skin. This hotel room had a horrible odor, it smelt like a mixture of the marijuana we were smoking, and the beer Paul had spilled all over the floor. I wanted to escape, but I loved Paul, he treated me better than any one I ever knew.

I saw a bunch of people protesting across the street, I had no idea what for, but I was amazed; I took a pencil out and started to draw the scene. The people were all women, women who looked poor and dirty. In the middle of the drawing I put my pencil down, I was drifting off and became un-interested. When I was done I didn't realize Paul was missing, he must have went to get himself something to eat, I thought, so I went back to that uncomfortable bed, it stung me like a sharp kneedle, I had already slept for thirteen hours, but for what ever reason I was still tired. I closed my dark empty eyes, and I was only awake in a dark dream.

When I woke up it was nine thirty at night. Paul left a note on a post-it saying "Hitting the clouds, getting happy" meaning acid. I felt achy all over, I had a head ach, my throat was soar, and I was really thirsty. I wished that I could get happy. It would have took me out of that reality.

I didn't know what to do. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go out for a walk, smoke, eat, drink, or sleep some more. Feeling hot and dirty I decided to take a shower. When I pulled off my robe I just stared through the dusty mirror, there were fingerprints all over it, little trails of dust, and a small crack in the right corner on the bottom. I looked at my body through the faded mirror. Paul thinks I am still pretty with my new hairstyle. My body could have been changed, my breasts were as big as a twelve year olds, my skin was too pale, I was too skinny, my lips were pink but chapped and bleeding. When I finally got into the shower the cold water actually felt good, it cleaned off the sweat on my forehead, it cooled me down and made all the heat go away, when I got out and wrapped the rough white towel around me I started to shiver. When I put my robe on I heard a knock at the door. It was Paul wasted, he knocked three times, then finally got his key out, it took him awhile to put it through the hole.

"Hey baby", I hated when he called me that, it annoyed me for whatever reason. "Whatever Paul. Why didn't you wake me up? I was sleeping for hours! I got up this afternoon and I had no idea where you were, I went back to sleep, and before you went out to get happy you should have woken me up!" I wasn't really mad, I just wanted to hold something against him, for whatever reason I was angry, and I couldn't figure out why. He opened his mouth about to say something but I interrupted, "Paul, we can't stay here any longer! This room is horrible, the beds are fucking killing me, the shower is too cold, this room smells, and I am tired of Berlin, its been a month now! I want to go to Paris, or Greece, or maybe Italy. But we can't stay in Europe forever, we need to go home, I want to see my…" I stopped, I couldn't believe what I was saying, words just slipped out of my mouth "I want to see my mother and then maybe we could move to New York and we could go to college, and…" He interrupted me, "After all that your mother's done to you, you still want to fucking see her?" "Paul she's my mother! I know that if you had a chance to see your mother you would." "Yeah, well my mother was a crack addict and left me when I was six months old. You're a fucking stupid child! You have the brain of a fish. Your mother doesn't care about you, your mother probably doesn't even care where you are right now! She never cared about you, thats why she killed her little boyfriend and went to prison, thats why she killed Clare, you're stupid." "Paul, you're stoned, go lay down, go to sleep on that old thin bed, leave me alone in peace, I don't want to speak to you right now." Tears rushed out of my eyes and burned through my skin. I put clothes on and walked out the door, I went to the coffee shop across the street, it was called "Coffe für die Seele". I ordered some German tea and a croissant. I only ate half of it, how could I have felt hungry? This shop was too small, and I was the only one in there, this man kept on speaking to me in German, I still had tears in my eyes, I didn't know what to say so I kept on saying "Ja, ja, ja" Annoyed he rolled his eyes and walked out of the shop.

I loved Paul but he was so cruel to me for some reason. In that moment the thing I wanted most was for Paul to run after me, take me in his arms, kiss me with his soft lips, and for him just to tell me "I'm sorry", but he didn't. So I sat there, all alone. My plan was to leave Berlin at the end of the week with or without Paul.

When I went back to the hotel room Paul was sleeping on the bed. I saw a painting he drew, it was of me of course, my hair was long and blond again, I was sitting with my knees up and I had a bunch of sunflowers all around me. I looked pretty again in the picture. I went up to Paul and kissed his soft cheek, even though he said things that hurt me. I got changed, I had nothing on put my robe, I laid down next to Paul and went back to sleep with my arms wrapped around him.


	2. Chapter 2

2

Gray clouds were all around me, the hot rain came down stinging me like a bee. The sound of the thunder felt like little drums pounding through my ears. It was the fifth week that we were in Berlin. My plan to leave with or without Paul was demolished; we were planning to leave the week after.

I really hated Berlin. It was so dead there. I haven't drawn anything in weeks, at least nothing meaningful, my art was dying, I couldn't draw any more, and neither could Paul. All we were able to draw were pictures of each other.

I thought about my mother a lot. A part of me still belonged to her. I could just picture a time in L.A., I was twelve and the time was three fifteen a.m. She was combing her hair, and the breeze felt so nice and so warm, it wrapped me up in its arms. My mother asked me to join her, I refused. "I want you to feel the wind" she said, "I want you to feel the breeze". I knew that it must have felt really good from where she was sitting but I was just too frightened to sit on the edge of the roof. "I could feel it from here", I cracked a smile, she laughed "No you can't". She pulled me close to her. I laid my head on her breast it was like a pillow. She was stroking my hair, only the oleanders thrived. The night was beautiful and I was with my mother who might have actually cared about me. I decided to write her a letter, it was a month and a half since I've seen her. I never thanked her for finally letting go of me and setting me free when she decided not to use me and to make me lie in court and say that Barry raped us both. At least she did something for me for once.

The letter said:_August 16, 2003_

_Mother,_

_It is your daughter Astrid. I heard of your release and I want you to know I am very happy for you. There is something that I want you to know. I went to Florida and I met my father Klaus. He is older, and he has a wife and children, they looked at me as if I were a stranger, as if I were some kind of weird creature. Klaus welcomed me in his small home; he was nice and made me feel as if he wanted to get to know me. He made me feel loved. Out of those short thirty minutes I haven't felt safer in my life. I want you to know that I can't believe you put me through so much, I can't believe you killed Barry without even thinking what it would do to me. And then your advice was for me to stay away from people because that's what you had to do being stuck in a small cage. Whoever I opened up to you didn't like. Star, Clare, and Paul. And you were so jealous that you got Clare to kill herself; my one question is how come you never wanted me to be happy? Why didn't you want me to live a better life than you had? I don't even know what happiness is, and it's all because of you. You took it from me, you killed it, and you want to know something else? What you've done is killing me. I bleed everyday because of my past, these bruises wont ever go away, and the cuts will never heal. I just want you to know that. I haven't made up my mind yet, I don't know if I want to come back to L.A. I'm trying to forgive you, trying to love you, but no matter how much I try I think about my past and I remember what I went through, and it just stops me from growing any love for you. _

_-Astrid_

I knew that she moved back to our old apartment, she owned it and it was deserted the past seven years. I didn't thank her for setting me free; when I was writing the letter my true feelings came out of my hand, I couldn't hold anything in. The pain was eating me alive slowly, my insides felt twisted, my heart felt crushed. Every anti-depressant I was taking was not going to heal the pain my mother put me through.


End file.
